PONG World: Level One
by A.Signia
Summary: The story of a Paddle that just couldn't take it anymore. A 5 Day Project For Me.
1. Introduction

PONG World The History: The Beginning And The End  
  
AMERICA 1970 - The culture was booming with millions of advances in technology. Home computers and VCRs were being put in every home. Stereos were a basic household appliance. Electronic entertainment was growing fast. However there was another invention that had a great amount of depth that people never knew about. In fact, it had a whole universe that people never knew about. Pong. Atari was a "home entertainment" company who had reached its peak in the mid 70s. But Atari had a dark secret. They were the undercover leaders of science and technology and had accidentally stumbled upon a portal, which opened a passage to another universe. A universe where warrior slaves were pitted against each other in violent contests. Where freedom was not known and all was work, with no play. Atari saw great potential in these blood fests and explored the world in which the fights took place. The fights were an ancient game of unknown origin and were commonly called "Pong" by the warrior-slaves. The slaves called themselves "Paddles". Paddles trained themselves in battle and grew to become very fast and agile. They bore sleek metallic suits that radiated a bright white light. The masters of the Paddles were appropriately titled "Controllers". A Controller would send a movement request to the Paddle's suit, when the Paddle would then have to perform this command. The entire process was based on a flying zero-friction ball that Paddles had to pass back and forth. Since Pong was the only lifestyle to live in this new universe, the entire land was named Pong. The only way for Atari to create Pong as a product was to make it seem unrealistic. Atari's only option was to create a secret military force and invading the land of Pong. Military forces captured and killed all the Controllers and brought the Controller technology back to Earth. This was a rather easy task to perform because Controllers were rich, lazy, slobs and most had lost the ability to move anything but their hands anyway. The stolen technology was compacted into hand-held plastic pads in which the human players would send messages to Paddle suits. Atari installed cameras high above Pong arenas so that players could get good view. Camera screens were built, attached to Controllers, packaged in a plastic case and shipped throughout America. Pong sold like crazy. Millions of people hooked them up to their television sets and played for hours on end, uninformed of what was really going on. Atari made millions and even started making more Pong-like games that enforced Paddles to work. The mass slavery eventually led to a revolt of the Paddles. This strike was kept top-secret and there was no information on Atari military units or Paddles during or after the conflict. After the rebellion Atari began producing games that were completely non-Pong related. Atari sales went down quickly and they soon closed up in the mid eighty's. But what exactly happened that brought this mysterious world from a legendary sport-planet to a horrible disaster worse than any war seen by man? What was the breaking point that lead from unkown subtleness to unknown disaster? A hell created worse than hell itself. What sparked the end of the old world and the beginning of the new? What was the last straw? 


	2. Understanding

PONG World  
  
Level One  
  
This story will make more sense if you read "PONG World: The History" first.  
  
DISCLAIMER: Don't sue me. I don't owe Pong. Atari owns Pong. I am not Atari. I don't own Atari.  
  
Cyrus pulled the gloves tightly over his hand. He tapped the palm of his glove on and off. The gloves contained a machine that would create a powerful reflecting force to bounce the ball. He tightened his metallic vest. He tapped and his feet and stretched a little. Two Players were about to put the Paddles against each other. Cyrus warmed himself up on the smooth black floor. The floor was lined with a bright white grid and it ran on for as far as the human eye can see. Cyrus eyed his enemy at the other end of the field. The white grid faded away and a gleaming ATARI logo hovered in the middle of the arena.  
  
The match was beginning. The two Paddles' suits began glowing white. The Atari logo disappeared and the grid came back into view again. Cyrus saw his opponent pacing back and forth. He couldn't really see anything but a bright glow because of the massive distance between them. Cyrus looked up into the sky were the grid could not be seen but only the scoreboard. The scoreboard was made of two large numbers: 0 0. He looked down again and saw the ball. It was a pure white ball with a machine planted inside that glazed the surface and made it zero frictionless.  
  
The horn sounded and the ball shot toward Cyrus. He ran at it with great speed and smacked it with all his force. It moved left. His enemy smacked it against the wall, which caused it to make a sharp right. It bounced of the right wall getting closer and closer to Cyrus. He ran after it as fast as he could. The ball got ever closer to Cyrus's wall. It was mere feet away from the wall when Cyrus dived for it. Cyrus grunted as he fell to the hard ground, knowing he missed the ball. An annoying buzzer sounded and the scoreboard changed: 1 0. Cyrus wiped the sweat off his brow and got ready for the ball again.  
  
This was Cyrus's life. He was an ordinary paddle in the world of Pong. "DAMNIT!" Cyrus slammed his arm into the wall of the preparation room in anger. "5-1! I'm pathetic!" A hovering orb lowered to Cyrus's eye level. "Battle request in room 8324903" The robotic female voice said. "Crap, another game". Cyrus walked to the Transportation Chamber, still catching his breath from the last game. "I can't take much more of this." The pull cart came up and another Paddle got in before Cyrus. "I'm gonna be late".  
  
It was the end of the day. Cyrus had competed in 18 tournaments and only won 5 of them. "If I don't catch up they are going to take me out. At least the Controllers gave us rest periods, these new Players work us 24/7." "Battle Request in room 1534730" Cyrus grumbled and walked to the Transportation Chamber for the umpteenth time today.  
  
He, as all of the Paddles, was being worked non-stop by human Players. He couldn't take it anymore. He felt like he was going to go insane. He wished he did so he wouldn't have to suffer this physical beating. The worst part was he knew he wouldn't go insane because he was just another of a million Paddles and none have ever gone insane. They've just been good, or they've been bad, and if they're too bad they're killed. Cyrus was one of the oldest Paddles out there though. He was there at the beginning when Atari troops reinforced the new world and killed off all the Controllers. He thought it was a good thing. But he knew all of this mental wear-down had to have some effect. It couldn't just disappear into a bad memory. The younger Paddles didn't know it. They were still enjoying the sport. Cyrus remembered loving it too. He remembered being in the crowds cheering for Atari armies slaying the Controllers who enslaved them. Then he remembered being told of the extended work hours. Whenever a human Player was to turn a Pong unit on two Paddles would be ready and stationed at that unit.  
  
Things would change. He knew it. Maybe not now, or any time soon, but there would be a time. 


	3. Break Out

Cyrus fainted. He hadn't slept for over a month. He was brought to an infirmary where he was quickly observed and given a supply of pills. They were anti-sleep pills; he would get a good amount of energy without having the need for sleep. He was to take them for 3 days, once before each battle. Cyrus couldn't remember ever feeling sick in his life. He stared down at the orange-plastic pill container and shook it a little. He was gently but impatiently pushed out of the infirmary as another orb gave him his new game information. He ignored it and silently walked down the small corridor, reading the fine print on his pills.  
  
He was standing in the transportation chamber but he couldn't remember what for. "Oh yeah!" He thought, "Another fight…" He couldn't remember the room number the orb told him. He couldn't remember how long he had been standing idly in the room. He looked down at his thin LCD wristband. All he had to do was tap it and it would show his assigned room number. It would also send a message to his account office where a penalty would be added for his forgetfulness. He struggled to remember the number. He was loosing to many fights to afford a penalty. He knew he wouldn't last to live another month of fighting. They would surely kill him. He tapped the band and the numbers 209683 appeared. Someone stepped up to him.  
  
"Hi"  
  
"Huh?" Cyrus mumbled  
  
"It's me doofus" Jokingly insulted the stranger.  
  
Cyrus looked up "Oh, hey. I haven't seen you in a long time" It was Rynn. Rynn had met Cyrus when they were both just entering adult tournaments. They had stayed together with each other for the first day of preparation and soon found out their first match was against each other. He remembered playing with much enthusiasm and energy, no hate. Cyrus didn't remember who won. He didn't want to remember. The two never saw each other after the match.  
  
"Goin' to a fight, huh?"  
  
"Yeah I just came from the infirmary. I fainted in a battle, lack of sleep"  
  
"How ya' feelin'?" Rynn asked. He still looked just as energetic as he was that first battle.  
  
"I'm fine, how 'bout you?"  
  
"I'm great." Of course he was. Cyrus remembered seeing his rank on the board and it was pretty high. How can you feel bad when you know death is at bay because you're good at Pong.  
  
The transport cart wheeled up along the track and Rynn got on. "Well see ya'" Rynn said, speeding away. Cyrus scolded himself, "I'm going to be so late."  
  
Cyrus walked into the room with the knowledge of his fault on his face. An observer bot extended from the wall towards him. "YOU ARE THREE MATCHES LATE! GET YOUR SUIT ON. YOU'LL BE DOING AN EXTRA MATCH NOW!"  
  
Cyrus entered the small prep room and pulled on his leg pieces, chest piece, arm pieces, and helmet. He tightened his gloves and tapped the palm jewel on and off to test it. He remembered the pills, pulled them off the bench and swallowed one. He felt an amazing refreshment of energy. He felt as if he just woke from a hundred year sleep. He took another one. "This is not going to be good for me. But who the f--- cares. If I don't die from these they'll just kill me anyway" He tipped the pill case back and swallowed the whole mess of them. "GET OUT HERE NOW!" The observer called. He walked out to see the observer quickly retract into the wall and his impatient glowing opposition at the other end. The all-to familiar logo faded onto the field.  
  
He closed his eyes until he heard the feint hum of the ball forming in the center of the arena. It jetted toward his enemy who vigilantly reflected it back. Cyrus looked down at his jeweled palms and felt the energy rush going through him. He looked up and saw the ball. Closer. Closer. Closer. Stop. It hit Cyrus's wall. He didn't put any effort into deflecting it. It formed in between his palms with a hum. He threw his arm back, ready to launch the ball and realized this was the only chance he had. He had no reason, but then again, there was no reason not to. He ran towards his enemy. The stadium speakers started humming. "WARNING WARNING WARNING PADDLE UNIT APPROACHING BARRIER." He saw his rival looking in confusion. As he neared the center of the field he could see the barrier he never looked for. It was a force that ran from end to end and was extremely glossy. Like a super-fine polished piece of glass. He ran at it with all his speed. The speakers grew louder. The ball clung to his hand with the help of an anti-gravitation field. The 1-foot ball caused him to run slightly awkward but he would need it for his scheme. The pong ball was the only matter that could pass through the barrier. He was feet away from the barricade. He thought about the energy, the anger, the power, the sleep, and the hate. He dove at the wall and slammed his hand at it with all the physical force he could ever use. The wall shattered into billions, all the way down the field. Cyrus landed on his left shoulder as the balled bounced up, realigned its altitude and shit in a random direction. Cyrus could not believe what he had just done. If he were in a movie he would get up, look around, and think about what just happened. But instead he immediately got up running; with the same amount of force he had been, at his challenger, who still stood in shock and total puzzlement. Cyrus tackled him with great strength, flying the both of them into the wall three feet ahead. Cyrus planted himself upon his prey's chest and began punching at his face with his armored glove. Cyrus didn't know him. Cyrus didn't know why he was beating the ever-loving crap out of him. All he knew was that this was a hell of a lot better than Pong. He swung his fist over and over while holding him down with the other hand. A guard bot shot out of the wall and fired a single bullet right below the back of Cyrus's neck.  
  
Cyrus fell. He was in ultimate ecstasy. He lay paralyzed in his victim's blood whom was currently moaning very loudly. Cyrus knew only one of two good things could happen now. He would either die or be taken to the infirmary. He didn't know why either were so great but thinking about them brought him great happiness. 


	4. The Arrival

He felt his heartbeat. Black. He saw the lights. Black. He saw the arm. Black. He woke up.  
  
"Well, you've survived the operation. It was rather easy."  
  
"What…what's going on?" Cyrus's vision became clearer.  
  
He sat up from his uncomfortable resting place. He was a couple feet off the floor and dizzy. He saw the white-coated man standing near him, speaking, and the steel cabinets behind him.  
  
"I'm Dr. Kerrel. I directed the surgery on you. Like I said it was pretty easy."  
  
Cyrus looked around some more. He saw the robotic arm. Then he saw them. Armor-clad men bearing frightening weapons stood at guard, rather uncomfortably squeezed into the small room. They were the soldiers. The soldiers that were once called heroes. Heroes for eliminating the Controllers in order to perform their demonic super-economic transformation. Why were they here? What had happened? What had he done?  
  
"You may not remember the past few moments. You were in the middle of a Pong fight when you went into an aggressive…rage. You injured a fellow Paddle so one of our security bots fired a paralyzing bullet into your spine. You were taken here where our tools helped remove the bullet and it's paralyzing chemicals, and also repaired damaged body parts. You shouldn't feel anything; the back of your neck may be somewhat sore, though." Kerrel explained.  
  
Cyrus felt the back of his neck, behind his long brown hair. "Why are these guards here?!"  
  
"They're here in case you go into another rampage."  
  
Cyrus laughed, "Well, can I go now?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but no. You won't be going to any Pong games for a little while now. These guards are also here to escort you to Atari offices. You are to be questioned and supplied help for this unpleasant incident."  
  
Cyrus felt a short second of relief. No more games. Then fear. What is at the Atari offices? What bizarre questions would he be given?  
  
"Please step into the dressing room over here and put on this Phys. Suit."  
  
Cyrus jumped from the bed. "I'm not going anywhere! Put me back into the games." Cyrus never thought he'd say that. The guards readied themselves for any hostility. Cyrus turned and remembered the guards. He looked back at the smiling doctor, holding the leathery body suit, grabbed it, and walked into the small dressing room.  
  
The guards' heavy boots stomped down the narrow halls. Cyrus was in the center of the circle of white-armored bodies. They marched with an uncertain pride. They were very tall; He could barely see anything around him but the steel floor. The group reached a transportation chamber; it was different though. It was much larger. The tunnels could hold bigger transport units, though he had seen no other but the one-man pull carts. One guard stepped up to a large control panel and tapped at some buttons. Less than a minute later a guarded vessel pulled up. The craft was covered with a thick blue-gray metal and visibly had some weapons stationed on it. Another guard pulled the heavy sliding door back and led Cyrus in. Cyrus could see it held 12 people, four rows of three seats. Cyrus was placed in the middle of the ship where he was conveniently stuck. Even if he wanted to try and make a fast move he wouldn't be ale to get up due to the large clunky armor-suits of the guards sitting next to him. The ride was long. For a moment, from the small windows in the cramped car, he saw a strange aura around everything and a mass of a deep blue something. Cyrus slept and when he awoke they had still not arrived at the offices. He was becoming very impatient and unsure to feel curious or frightened of the Atari offices. An unknown amount of time later, they had reached them. The train stopped and the passengers unloaded.  
  
When Cyrus stepped out he noticed two major differences. The ground. It was not the smooth metal he remembered. It was stone. He felt a certain amount of friction on it. Then he looked up. He remembered in the arenas, and wherever he went, even in his room, the sky was total black. This sky had a dark, purplish tint to its blackness, accented with bright specks here and there. As he was led to the maze-work of Atari buildings he noticed most structures were made of stone and glass. He was presented to the doorway of the Atari Main Offices building. The ever-popular emblem was cast in steel above the doors: Three bands spreading out at the end with the following words printed beneath them: ATARI. 


	5. Afraid

Cyrus felt as if he was in a whole new world. Most things here were made of resources that Cyrus had only seen once or twice…wood, plastic. Is this some kind of upper-class region of Pong? From the second he entered the Main Office Building he noticed a major temperature change, it was very, very, warm. He also noticed he didn't fit in much. Most of the people who he passed wore a cloth-fabric. No one but the escorting guards bore the armor that most arena-residents did. Most were also very fat. Cyrus remembered when it was legal for Paddles to see Controllers. These workers weren't nearly as large as the Controllers, perhaps they were descendants. He also took note of the large amount of books kept in this commercial area. Cyrus once read a book. It was called "The Iliad".  
  
Cyrus was led to a small elevator at the end of the first floor. He had much trouble adjusting to the carpet to on the way to his destination. The elevator doors slid open and the guards look somewhat dumbfounded that they all couldn't fit in at once so they sent each other in three group, Cyrus being in the second group going up. The experience was quite a strange one. His gut felt very strange and he was fairly nauseous on the way out. He noticed a sign on the wall:  
  
SEVENTH FLOOR  
  
IN-WORLD PSYCHOLOGICAL  
  
DEVELOPMENT AND RESEARCH  
  
ATARI MAIN OFFICE BUILDING  
  
This floor was much different than the lower ones. It wasn't as decorative. A worn-out tiled floor and dull blue walls filled this level. Multiple offices stuck out here and there where Cyrus was guided through for some while. He was pretty sure the guards didn't know their way around, themselves. He was eventually brought to a hall of doors where he was shown to a door with another interesting sign:  
  
724  
  
DR.PERICA  
  
PSYCHOLOGICAL  
  
INVESTIGATION  
  
Cyrus walked in and for the first time in a while the guards left him and stayed at the door. Cyrus walked down the tight entranceway totally unsure of where he was going. He was surprised to see how simple it was. There was just one room at the end of the short hall. A balding man sat in a chair next to another chair. Impulsively, Cyrus sat down in this chair.  
  
"Hello Cyrus."  
  
This caused Cyrus a bit of shock.  
  
"How do you know my name?" Cyrus questioned, feeling like a stupid creature in this new environment.  
  
"I was appointed to meet with you here. I am Dr. Perica and I would like to help you with this outburst you had on tues – recently."  
  
Cyrus shot his head around waiting for some kind of trick to reveal itself. Nothing. "Well, let's get started then." He requested uneasily.  
  
"Okay, first can you tell me was there any logical reason for this violent strike you made?"  
  
"Well of course. I wanted to, and I had the chance to, so I did."  
  
"That doesn't answer the question."  
  
"Well than what do you want from me? As you know we work like slaves out there. Pushing our bodies to the limit and beyond for your entertainment. You are just clones of the Controllers again. If your life consisted of this tedious game-sport and that's all, not even sleeping, hell I can't even remember the last time I ate something…but if all you did was perform this slave labor and you were given the chance to break out wouldn't you?"  
  
"Well under such circumstances yes but by no means needed did you have to strike that innocent…"  
  
"After I realized I could destroy that barrier, which I never even knew was there, that thing would've shot me anyway so I might've just tried as many new things as I could in that short moment. You don't know what a feeling it was to break it, break everything my world has been restrained by."  
  
"What did this other player do for you to get such satisfaction out of bludgeoning him? Was it that he was being over-competitive in the game?"  
  
"YA KNOW, IF YOU WERE SMART YOU WOULD KNOW THAT THE FOCUS ISN'T ON MY RELATION TO MY…ugh…victim."  
  
"Don't threaten me Cyrus. You know the guards are right out there. Look I don't want to…"  
  
"DO YOU REALIZE THE INSANITY THAT IS BEING PERFORMED HERE?" Cyrus jumped up out of the chair and grabbed Dr. Perica by the collar of his shirt. "WILL YOUR MENTAL MEDICINE HEAL ME? I THINK NOT. I WILL USE IT. USE IT JUST LIKE THE DRUGS I USED TO BREAK THE BARRIER. I WILL BREAK THE BARRIER ONCE AGAIN!"  
  
"GUARDS! GET IN HERE HELLLP!" Dr. Perica yelled.  
  
The guards immediately stormed in. They saw Cyrus grappling Perica and opened fire. Cyrus threw Perica down and ran the only other way he could. He jumped out of the window. He managed to land on his feet but slipped and sprained his leg. Realizing it was a lot easier than he though. His agility gained in the arenas saved his life. But what pain he was in. He grabbed the left of his chest with his right hand. Blood. He had been shot. He looked down at his leg, also hit. He saw the guards come up to the window and he had to run. He struggled but managed to stand and ducked behind the side of the building he jumped from. He was afraid of the blood trail he left behind. He heard the guards "He's down there! He must've have hurt himself. Let's go around and get him."  
  
Cyrus dragged himself through the complex of Atari buildings, uncertain of what would lie around every dark corner. He felt secure in this darkness underneath the strange twilight he had never seen before. He was no longer afraid of the guards. He wasn't afraid of anything he could think of. He was only afraid of never knowing what was around this corner. This corner and every other corner. Afraid he would not know, not learn, not realize. 


	6. What

Cyrus managed to escape. At least Cyrus thought so; he could care less at this point. He organized his bloodied and beaten self for his journey through the buildings of Atari. His first stop would be in the building he was leaning against. He limped inside. All the walls were pure white. The hundred computers and the desks they rested on were pure white. A hundred people sat in a room tapping rhythmically at computers. They took no notice to Cyrus. "This is like where I come from. This is like Pong. They're all slaves!" The workers continued striking away at the keyboards producing a digital nothing. Cyrus walked to the next room leaving his blood path behind him.  
  
Thousands of people shuffled around this room. Cyrus was pushed around in the bustling crowd. He was pushed against the wall and he turned around to look at it. It was gone; the wall had fallen and was replaced with a white void, quickly occupied by the people of all shape and color. The blood stuck to his shadow.  
  
Cyrus traveled through many more rooms. He learned what. He learned about politics. He learned about theology, about science and mathematics. He learned everything what. He was being pulled. Pulled violently. He didn't want to leave his pure white paradise. He was being pulled by blackness. A charred, rotted dark. Decaying scorched shadows ripped him away from his dream-place. He couldn't hold it. He wasn't strong enough. He let go.  
  
"We must kill him now!"  
  
"We can't! If we don't continue studies on him this act will repeat itself. They'll all go mad."  
  
"We can handle that later. We won't have any control if this single Paddle kills all of us."  
  
"Alright, let's hold him here for a little while longer, a day or so. Then we'll see what happens."  
  
The man grunted. "…Agreed."  
  
Cyrus struggled to open his eyes. He couldn't move anything. He was very tired.  
  
"What about the book?" He asked the scientist.  
  
"I have no idea…we found him with a copy of 'The Iliad' in his hands. We have no idea where he got it from."  
  
Finally, with enough effort he managed to slide the lids of his eyes open. He was in a cell: A glass tube, lying down. The semi-circular tube was lined with robotic pieces scanning, repairing, and just viewing his unclothed body. Just like the one robotic arm that patched him up after he broke the first barrier. Cyrus was strapped down. It didn't make a difference; he didn't have the power to move anyway. He saw the two men who were talking. One wore a professional looking blue suit. The other was another doctor or scientist of some sort. Cyrus hated doctors. Cyrus reminisced on the white learning. He was so happy there. He learned. He never learned before. It was beautiful. He had just become a slave again here. However he only had one piece of knowledge to use in this place: He learned there was a third barrier. The strongest barrier to break, and it was the last. He regained control of his mouth. He felt himself breathing. He spoke. "Why. Why am I here?"  
  
The two men who were previously talking turned their attention to Cyrus.  
  
"What am I doing here?" He said.  
  
"I thought you said he would be knocked out for another day?!" Said the professional looking man.  
  
"Well…he's supposed to. Under human circumstances that is…"  
  
Human? What is that?  
  
"Why am I here?!"  
  
The scientist looked at the suited man who nodded yes. "…Well, you have been severely injured. Do to your unique body structure a normal doctor couldn't operate on you. These automated bots are well capable of handling it though. Are you feeling any pain?"  
  
"No."  
  
"How is that?" The man asked the scientist.  
  
"It must be another strange body response. Perhaps a natural venom was formed, a byproduct able to extend numbing capabilities. Well anyway I am Dr. Gordon, and this is Mr…."  
  
The well-dressed man shook his head no. The scientist continued "Well, he is interested on what we are doing here he has decided to stay and watch."  
  
"Let me go back. Bring me back to the white. I want to learn more."  
  
"What is he talking about?" asked the man angrily.  
  
"What…White…? Oh…Cyrus, you have had a major loss of blood. The visions you might have seen were caused by a lack of blood to your brain."  
  
Brain?  
  
"I want to go back."  
  
"What are we going to do with him now?" The man threw another question to the scientist.  
  
"His surgery is almost over. After that we just…keep him here I guess."  
  
"I have more questions," Said the voice coming from the glass tube. "I have learned all about what. Now I must learn why."  
  
The two men looked befuddled. "Should we answer the questions he dares to ask?" The scientist asked. "Go ahead."  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"You are on Earth. Earth is very different from Pong. Here on Earth, the humans aren't forced into the slave sport you play. We have a multitude of things to do here." The scientist ventured.  
  
"What is human?"  
  
"Humans are one of the great differences of our worlds. They are very different from Paddles and Controllers. One might say they are the in- between. We vary in shape, size, and all forms."  
  
"Why did you say I was so unique?"  
  
"Well, your body is far different from humans. After the years the Paddle body has adapted to be completely agile and athletic. Some of your inside parts are more flexible or stronger."  
  
"Why did you take me? Why not any other of the Paddles?"  
  
"Well, you are one of the few paddles to…go "Rogue".  
  
"You mean I wasn't the only one?"  
  
"No. Many other Paddles have broken from the restraints of their mind. We believe we have them all."  
  
"They are here like me? Can I talk to them?"  
  
"Well they are here. They are not in your…state. No you cannot talk to them."  
  
"When I came he in the large pull-cart I saw a strange glow around everything. Including a large mass of…blue. What is that?  
  
"The glow you saw came from the Sun. The Sun is a huge mass of gas far away from Earth and Pong. Because of our atmosphere the Sun is able to spread light across the surface of this planet. This blueness you saw must've been the river around here. A river is a stream of something we call water. It is a clear liquid, which our bodies require to operate and it is a very abundant resource. In fact it makes up most of our planet and everything else here."  
  
"Why isn't the Sun glowing now?"  
  
"It is, we just don't see it. Earth has a light side and a dark side, which constantly change positions. We are currently on the dark side. During this darkness, or night, stars can be seen in the sky that can't during the day."  
  
"So that explains them. When can I get out of here?"  
  
"Very soon, by tomorrow in fact. Then we will run a few more tests on you and return you to Pong and you can go back to the games."  
  
"I have one more question. I need an answer."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Please tell me doctor, who is that other man."  
  
"I'm sorry but by…"  
  
"We can't hide it forever Gordon." The man stepped up "I am the owner of Atari. I control everything produced by Atari and most of your world Pong. I commanded the invasions of your world and the slavery. I even request that you come here."  
  
The scientist returned to talking. "I'm sorry but we're going to have to put you under another stage of sleep until the morning. The tests run overnight require your brain patterns to run in a stage of rest."  
  
"Alright…I…" A gas filled Cyrus chamber and he was put to sleep. Gordon and the other man left the dark room. 


	7. Agnus Dei

Cyrus's fist stuck out from the broken glass of the cell. "It's time for the third barrier." He rose from his restraints. The straps slid off or ripped. The glass crumbled. The robots sparked and died. He glanced around the dark room, nothing of use. He attempted to open the single door in the room but it was locked. "Simple enough." He punched through the glass and unlocked the door from the outside. No one was in the offices.  
  
He went to the elevator shaft. He remembered seeing the guards operate it. It was easy. Numbers? Cyrus pushed the one.  
  
SIXTEENTH FLOOR  
  
IN-WORLD ROGUE PADDLE  
  
CONTAINMENT CENTER  
  
He had entered a prison. Far worse than Pong. When he learned about Earth he saw it as good. Now he saw the evil. The Paddles were hung frozen in larger cells, two times larger than Cyrus's, standing upright. Rows and rows of cells. The ceiling was extremely high and the cells stretched from end to end. Each end contained a mechanical device. The lower section contained a computer. They were not dead. These Paddles were living. Cords strung from the computer to the motionless bodies. Cyrus walked through all the rows to the end of the room. Two large doors sealed the beyond. Dr. Gordon stormed in.  
  
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Yelled the shocked Dr. Gordon.  
  
"You weren't going to return me to Pong. You were going to put me here. With these…prisoners."  
  
"They are not prisoners. They are perfectly fine we are just running…"  
  
"THEY ARE SCIENCE EXPERIMENTS SO YOU CAN KEEP YOUR BUSINESS RUNNING."  
  
"Calm down there is a perfect explanation for all of this! Let me take you back to the lab and we'll be fine!"  
  
"NO! WHAT ARE YOU STUPID? YOU ARE INVITING ME TO HELL!"  
  
"Come on! I'll tell security to hold off, we'll get you some clothes, and I'll…"  
  
"YOU DON'T GET IT! I'M NOT GOING BACK TO YOUR FREAKISH…"  
  
"THIS IS SECURITY HOLD BACK" A group of armed soldiers stormed in, armor-clad.  
  
"NO! DON'T YOU SEE? MY LIFE IS A WHEEL I MUST NEVER GET OFF OF! I WILL CHANGE THIS! MY LIFE WILL NOT REMAIN A MIRROR. I WILL CHANGE THIS WORLD. I WILL CHANGE PONG. THESE THINGS WILL NEVER BE THE SAME."  
  
"CYRUS, COME WITH ME! I CAN HELP YOU!"  
  
"YOU ARE JUST TRYING TO CONTROL ME TO SATISFY YOUR CURIOSITY! OBVIOUSLY YOU CANNOT TELL THE DIFFERENCE IN PRIORITY FROM YOUR CURIOSITY AND YOUR RIGHT WILL! I HAVE SEEN BEAUTY. I HAVE A CHANCE AND I WILL TAKE IT. I HAVE HAD THREE CHANCES. THREE BARRIERS. THREE WALLS OF PAIN AND THREE PAINFUL FALLS. THREE STRIKES. I HAVE SEEN TWO WORLDS AND I AM SLAVES IN BOTH. THIS IS MY LAST CHANCE OUT OF THIS WORLD, OUT OF EVERY WORLD AND OUT OF PONG. I WILL. I WILL TAKE THIS CHANCE." Cyrus swung open the two huge doors. They lead to the roof. Security opened fire. Bullets shot through the glass in the cells. Blue fluid poured everywhere. The bodies fell and came to life struggling for air. Bullets tore into Cyrus's chest.  
  
"I WILL TAKE THIS CHANCE! THIS IS MY THIRD CHANCE. THE THIRD BARRIER. I AM NOT SURE WHERE IT GOES BUT IT CANNOT BE WORSE THAN THIS. THREE TIMES I WILL FALL, EACH TIME UNSURE OF WHAT WILL COME. NOW I WILL FALL AND KNOW THERE IS NO REASON TO FEAR WHAT MAY COME." Cyrus walked to the edge of the roof.  
  
"GO, GO, GO!" "HE'S NOT DOWN YET!" "HOLD FIRE!" "DON'T LET HIM JUMP" Radios buzzed.  
  
"HERE IS MY THIRD WALL. MY FINAL FALL." Cyrus dived. He saw the white. He saw the black. The gray in between. He had only witnessed the monstrosity of all three. He fell knowing this was the only right thing he could do. He had no other choice. This was it. This was the time things would change. 


End file.
